War
by HoneyBeeez
Summary: Hijack. Set in WWI. The story of how Henry and Jack met, fell in love, and were torn apart forever. This was originally a school assignment, so I guess you can learn about WWI (a little) while getting your Hijack fix. (I dunno about the genres so... whoops)
1. Chapter 1

There was a knock on the door, and I was about to answer it when my father jumped up.

"I got it!" He yelled. I let him get it. I poured him out a bowl of oatmeal, and set it on the table. I was about to go out and start the chores when I heard something from outside.

"Excuse me, sir, but do you have any-?" An unfamiliar voice asked.

"Get in here," My father said gruffly in his no-nonsense voice. I heard footsteps and I hesitated at the back door. What was going on? "I was wondering when you were going to show up at my door." He said.

"Father?" I called.

"Henry!" He said, as if remembering I still existed. "Make two more bowls of oatmeal!" I didn't question him, I just got it done. I rationed them out in bowls and set them on the table next to my father's. As I stepped near the table, I saw two children in front of my father. One was taller than me, about my age, with chestnut hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was dressed in tattered clothing, with no shoes on his feet. There was a little girl cowering next to him, clinging to his leg. She had straight brown hair and brown eyes. They both had fairly pale complexions, and they looked frozen with fear and cold.

"Father?" I asked. "The oatmeal is ready." I said. All three of them looked at me, and I felt a lot smaller than I was.

"Ah, yes," My father said. He looked at the two meaningfully. "Well, go on then," He said kindly, in a voice that I haven't heard in so long. They all moved to the table, and the two sat down at the table in front of the two bowls of oatmeal I just laid out. They ate silently, as if they were trying to slow down but they just did not know when the next time they would eat would be.

"Henry." My father said. I looked at him. "I want you to make up two new beds, one for each of these two, and put one of them in your room, the other next to the fireplace. Do you understand?"

"Of course, I am not daft." I said, looking at my father's expression as I said it. "But what about the chores?" I said.

"You could always do them later," My father said. "Right now, I need beds."

"I could always help, sir." The boy said, not looking up at the two of us. "I was going to ask you if you needed anything done around the house…" His voice was deep, and it sounded like it had been through a lot. I studied him a bit.

"What is your name?" I asked.

"I'm Jackson, and this is my sister, Emelia," He said simply. Emelia gave a shy wave.

"Pleasure to meet you," I said. "I am Henry. Father, could he help me? The bales of hay are up in the barn's loft."

"Alright then," He said. Jackson got up out of his seat and walked up to me.

"Well, lead the way, Henry," He said with a small smile. I smiled back and gave a nod. I lead him to the door, when he hesitated and looked back at his sister. "Are you going to be okay?" He asked, the care in his voice overwhelming.

"Yes, I am okay. Go!" She said, shooing him off. He laughed and walked outside with me.

"So, the hay is up on top. I just need you to help me get them down." I said, leading him to the barn. It was small, and only had two horses in it, but it worked. "Because, you know, I am a little bit…" I trailed off without knowing it.

"Small?" Jackson asked. I reddened.

"Yes, small." I replied.

"That's okay," Jackson said simply. He was quiet after that, but he gave me a little smile. We worked diligently, climbing up to the barn's hay loft and he threw the hay bales down the ladder. He helped me fill the mattresses with the hay, and even helped me lug them back inside the house.

"Thank you, Jackson," I said.

"Call me Jack," He said. "And I should be the one thanking you. Most people do not show the kindness that your father has shown to us."

"Do you usually ask around for work?" I asked. Jack looked down at his bare feet.

"Yes," Jack said, his voice small, but the sound cut through the silence sharper than any knife. "Emelia and I have been doing this for a long time."

"You will have to tell me about it later then," I said as we reached the back door. We shoved the mattress through the door and dragged it towards my room. I was lucky to have a room all to myself to begin with, I didn't mind sharing.

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea," Jack said, smiling. Then he ran out. "Emelia!" He said, a little loudly, the fear tangible in his voice.

"Jack?" She replied, from outside. He ran out there, and I followed him. Her and my father were pulling weeds from the garden.

"Father!" I said. "I was supposed to be doing that!"

"Ah, well, she insisted," My father replied, a smile on his face and the happiness radiating from his eyes. I almost stumbled back; I haven't seen my father smile like that, and actually mean it, for a really long time.

"We will help," Jack said, smiling at the two. I nodded, and we all spent the rest of the day pulling the weeds from the ground. When it was nightfall, we all went inside. I lit the fireplace quickly and warmth spread across the house. I made dinner, and we all ate in silence. My father said that Jack would be sleeping in my room, while Emelia would be sleeping near the fireplace.

"A lady needs privacy after all," He said. Emelia laughed, and Jack rolled his eyes.

We settled down for sleep not long after that. Emelia was sleeping by the fire, and my father was already snoring in his room, but Jack and I were still awake, staring at my ceiling.

"Our mother was young when she had us." Jack said quickly.

"What?" I asked.

"She was too young," He continued, as if it hurt to backtrack even a little. "She hid me, told no one about me. Our grandmother took care of me during the day. No one knew that I was alive, let alone on this earth. I was about six when she had Emelia. No one knew about her either.

"Something… something happened after that. I am not sure what, but something did. I was laying Emelia down for a nap, because our mother told me to, and then… she screamed. I ran to see what had happened, and she was on the floor. She was dead. I do not know why or how, but I grabbed everything that I could, and me and Emelia left. We've been going from house to house for a while, asking around for anything they could give, whether it be some food or water, as long as I did some work for them. It's been like this for years."

"Why haven't you gone in the marketplace?" I asked.

"Too many people go in the marketplace." Jack replied. "They would have recognized us, maybe even turned us in. And there are too many beggars there, we would have been overpassed as if we were nothing."

"I wish you had come to us sooner." I said, a little regretfully. "We've had more than enough for a while now."

"Well, we are here now, aren't we?" Jack asked. I laughed.

"I guess you are…" I said.

We fell asleep after that.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up the next morning, and Jack was already out of bed. I jumped up a bit blearily, and walked out of my room. What if they decided to leave? They could have just upped and left in the middle of the night. I almost ran out the front door when I saw them in the kitchen. They were making breakfast.

"Morrow," I said, a little confused.

"Good morrow, Henry!" Emelia said, giving me a little smile. I looked at Jack. He was smiling a bit shyly.

"Morrow," He said. "Sorry, it's sort of a habit to make breakfast for our patrons." Jack said. I laughed at that I bit.

"No, no." I said. "Don't be sorry at all. You just frightened me, is all."

"Alright then," Emelia said. "Henry, could you help us? We are not really sure where everything is."

"Oh, of course." I said. "This could be a surprise for my father," I said chuckling a little as I handed them some pots and utensils. "I'll get some eggs from the chickens." I said.

"I'll help you." Jack said. "Emelia, don't turn anything on, okay?"

"Yes, Jackson. I know. I am not a child." She said. It was completely contradictory, seeing as she was actually a child, but I didn't say anything. Jack just gave her a look, and followed me outside.

"Henry?" He asked me. "How long does your father plan to keep us under your roof? It's mighty considerate of him, but…"

"I do not know, to be honest." I replied. "But I do know that when he does something, he simply does not do it half-assed." Jack laughed at that bit as we collected the eggs from the chickens. "I do not think he will be this kind to anyone and then kick them out of our house." I said.

"It is mighty kind of both of you," Jack said quietly, giving me a quick glance before returning to the task at hand.

This was the first time I really looked at Jack. The morning light illuminated his frame perfectly. He was skinny, his arms and legs looking bony and long. His chin and jaw was well-defined, and his feet looked like they've seen more days without shoes than with. But he looked strong, well-built, filled out. His long fingers looked as if they could play the lute, swing a sword, bake bread, birth a calf, or do just about anything. His hair looked disheveled on top of his head, and his teeth were unnaturally white and healthy.

I do not think I was staring for long, because I found myself picking eggs here and there as well. In absolutely no time at all, we found ourselves walking back inside the house. Emelia was sitting on a stool, swinging her legs about and humming quietly to herself as she did so. She hopped off of it as soon as she saw us, and almost immediately starting cracking eggs into two separate bowls.

"You have flour, don't you Henry?" She asked, looking up at me and batting her eyes slowly.

"Yes, of course," I said, gesturing to a burlap sack near the back door. "Why do you ask?"

"Jack and I make the best bread," She said, a smile forming on her lips. I looked at Jack quizzically. He came over, and put his right hand on my left shoulder, then he bent down a bit and whispered in my ear, the smile on his face audible in his voice.

"Our grandmother taught me the recipe," He said. "She was too young to remember, but I guess it sort of stuck."

I smiled as he moved away, secretly wishing he was closer to me again. But that was wrong, wasn't it? I brushed it off, dismissing the shivers that ran down my spine to be from how cold it was this morning.

The smell of freshly-baked bread wafted through the air in no time, and I guess the glorious smell roused my father to get out of bed. He walked into the kitchen blearily just in time to see Emelia and Jack take out the second loaf of bread, and I was tending to the first one. I saw him blink a couple times, shocked at first, but then his face broke out into a huge grin and he laughed a little sleepily. Jack and Emelia just smiled at him, and I waved.

"Morrow, Father," I said.

"Morrow everybody!" He said, laughing a bit louder. "Making bread, I see?"

"Yes, sir," Emelia said.

"We wanted to thank you for the kindness you have shown us," Jack said, "and this was the only way I could think of." The bread cooled down enough, and I cut my father a slice and passed it to him. He sunk his teeth into it, and his eyes nearly fell out of his head.

"God Almighty," He swore lightly, and Emelia giggled. "Delicious, that is." Jack laughed, and we caught each other's eye. Pride shone clearly in his blue eyes, and my smile became wider.

Breakfast was eaten, and my father was right, their bread was spectacular. After, I excused myself from the table; I was already behind on my chores because of yesterday and a late start today simply was not getting me anywhere. I slipped through the back door and silently made my way to the barn. I had to tend to the horses first.

"Henry!" Jack yelled, and I turned around abruptly. Jack was running towards me, barefoot. He stopped and caught his breath for a bit.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"Helping with your chores, of course," Jack chirped, his white smile flashing across his face. My lips turned upwards slightly, and the burning sensation in my cheeks told me that I was blushing like mad.

"Look, Jack, you really do not have to-" I tried to argued but he held his hand up.

"I am helping you with your chores, and there is nothing you can do or say that will ever stop me." He said with finality. I gave in, rather reluctantly, because I always did my chores single-handedly and teamwork was not always my expertise.

Doing the chores with Jack… was like playing a huge game. While I usually did my work silently, he laughed and talked and sang to himself as he did his. I got sucked into his banter, and soon I was laughing and singing along with him. One of the horses whinnied at me loudly and I made a snarky face to it. After that, I tended to the crops outside. It was the usual chores that must be done, weeding and watering and picking if necessary. Jack helped me with that, too.

Chores with Jack felt different somehow. Before, it felt like a burden, like this heavy weight was on my shoulders. But now… there was this light and bubbly sensation running through me, even though I was exhausted and covered with sweat at the end of the day.

As we were getting ready to go inside, I saw Jack petting one of the horses fondly. I smiled, and looked on for a little while. Then, I spoke up.

"Do you like horses?" I asked, curious. Jack jumped, and the horse whickered at him, as if laughing. He laughed too, more at himself than anything, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Yeah, they are just… so…" He said, at a loss for words. I chuckled under my breath.

"Majestic? Beautiful? Strong? Graceful?" I supplied.

"All of them, really." He said. "There's just something about them that gets me every time… But that doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," I said with a little smile and putting a hand on his shoulder. "If it means that much to you, I could take you riding tomorrow." His face lit up like a torch, his eyes alight with wonder and joy, his smile genuine and sincere.

"I would like that… a lot, actually." He said. He pulled me into a quick hug, and electricity bolted up and down my spine. I hugged him back briefly before he let go, laughing. "Let's get inside before Emelia insists we all play tea party with her." I laughed along with him.

"Does she really do that?" I asked, hearing a couple stories from the boys in my class about how their sisters would make them drink pretend tea with their dolls. Jack just laughed and nodded, racing me back to the house.


	3. Chapter 3

There was this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach every single time I saw Jack, which was practically all the time. After about a month, he and Emelia were still staying with us, not that it was a nuisance or anything. It just happened to become a daily part of my life now, and I couldn't have been happier. Neither could my father, who seemed to like Jack and Emelia a bit more than he liked me, but he was happy; a smile lit up his features just like they did when Mum was still alive. There was nothing I would have changed.

Jack, Emelia and I grew closer. It started out as making breakfast and dinner together, but then it blossomed into something more. One day, I stopped myself in my tracks when I tried to remember what it was like to not have them in the house. It struck me as odd, because it had only been a couple of weeks! Emelia was sweet, and Jack was severely protective of her. We would play games after the chores were done, and my father would watch us, laughing. I persuaded them to step foot in the market one day when I had to take a trip over there to trade some of our foodstuffs. Their eyes lit up when they saw all the stands and people and life. They had a blast.

But… things started changing. I think they started to change when I took Jack horse riding. But then again, everything was jumbled up, it could have started sooner.

Anyways, it was… interesting, to say the least. Jack had no idea what he was doing, but he was a natural when he got going. In about three days, he was challenging me to races whenever we had time, and Emelia would be the judge of who would win. He was a good rider, but I was just a bit better. It made him frustrated, me winning by a quarter of an inch every time, and it was worth it.

But… there was something about that, riding horses. It was as if it was our escape. Something only him and I could do together, and no one could take that away from us. It brought us closer together.

The way Jack looked while seated on top of a horse was breath-taking. He looked like he was in his element, as if he belonged there, as if there was nothing anyone could do get him off against his own will.

And then, one day, I found out that Jack pushed his mattress up against mine. I blinked at the sight for a second, but I didn't object; it seemed stupid to have two beds separated in one room anyways. I thought it would be okay, but I really didn't think about how close we would be when we actually settled down for sleep. Jack didn't mention anything when he just curled up in his blanket and fell asleep, his toes brushing up against my leg and his slow, deep breathing resounding in my head. I closed my eyes tightly and forced myself to fall asleep before my thoughts could delve me into a new world.

It was about a week after that we started waking up in each other's arms. It wasn't awkward… it was the true definition of elation. I would wake up to pressure on my waist and something that felt like my pillow pushed against my chest. But when I opened my eyes, it would be Jack. Every time we woke up like this, I couldn't help but smile. Then I would wake him up and he would mutter random words until is feet hit the floor.

I guess everything started to really change when Jack kissed me. Well, it didn't really constitute as a real kiss but… Well, one morning, I was tired, and I really didn't feel like waking up, so I faked being asleep. And Jack woke up. He hummed, and the rumble in his chest made me smile, but I bit my smile back. I pretended to sleep for a bit longer, and then I felt it: something pressed up against the top of my head. It took me a while to realize that the something was his lips. He had kissed me on the top of my head.

Before I could react, he rolled off the bed and pulled my blanket away.

"Henry… come on! Wake up!" He said, a little hushed. I groaned, but got up, my cheeks flushed and I could barely meet his eyes.

Chores were awkward that day. I didn't talk all that much, and I didn't sing along to most of the songs we usually would sing. I was fighting with myself. I didn't know whether or not I was exaggerating, or if I really did feel something for Jack. It was seriously confusing, and Jack didn't point anything out until after we were putting the horses in their stalls after a ride.

"Are you alright?" He asked me. I looked at him.

"Yes… yes, I am okay. Why?" I responded.

"Well, you have been acting a bit weird all day." Jack pointed out. "Is there something on your mind, or do you not feel alright, or…?"

"I've just had a bit on my mind, that's all." I dismissed, trying to walk away, but he grabbed me by the shoulder lightly, and made me face him. His eyes were tragic, and he looked scared, but worried as well.

"You know you can tell me, right?" He asked me, and the note of worry in his voice broke me.

"You… you kissed me… this morning." I said, not being able to meet his eyes. His hand fell off my shoulder and swung at his side as he took a half-step backwards. The look of shock on his face made me want to scream.

"I-I thought you were asleep…" Jack said, shaking his head. "Look, Henry… I am really sorry. I-I didn't know what I was thinking and it was nothing, I swear! But… I guess I'll just tell Emelia that we have to-" He didn't need to finish that sentence, because I knew that he was going to suggest that they leave.

"No!" I protested. "No, not like that! Please don't leave! I do not want you to leave!" The desperation that saturated my words made me want to vomit.

"What?" Jack said, baffled.

"I've been trying to figure out how I felt about it." I said, honestly. "And I think I've finally figured it out."

"Really?" Jack asked.

"Yeah," I said, taking a leap of faith. I stepped closer to him and grabbed his face gently. Then I brushed my lips against his. It was brief, and before Jack could react to anything, I moved away. His eyes were wide, and he looked shocked. I bit the inside of my lip, nervous about everything at this point.

Jack smiled, wide and genuine and heart-warming. He cupped my cheek with his hand, kissed my forehead and nuzzled our noses together. I closed my eyes, smiling so hard my face had started to hurt. Then he brushed our lips together again, the feeling so faint that I barely felt it, but then again, the sensation made my knees go weak. He placed his free hand on my hip and pressed our foreheads together, our breath mingling together.

"We should go back inside," He suggested a bit breathlessly.

"I would rather stay out here for the rest of my life," I breathed. We both convulsed into a laughing fit before he basically dragged me back inside the house.

We acted like nothing was out of the ordinary and that nothing had happened, for the sake of Emelia and my father. What would they think? Would Father throw them out if he knew?

Jack and I lay just a bit closer together that night, smiles lazily on our faces and arms wrapped tightly around one another in pure bliss.

Slight infatuation turned into like, like turned into love, and love turned into love-making, and I couldn't have asked for anything better; no amount of riches could ever amount that look in Jack's eyes afterwards.

Love was a cruel and bizarre thing. No one had any control over it at all, and over time, it only grew stronger. Jack and I were practically inseparable. There was no reason for me to be worried about what my father had thought about our unconventional relationship; he caught us kissing in the barn one day and all he did was laugh, saying that he knew it all along but he wasn't going to say anything. Jack and I smiled widely that day, and by the time it was nightfall, our cheeks were hurting like mad.

There's another curious thing: life. Right when everything seems to be falling into place, it changes directions, ruining practically everything you have ever known, and sometimes, changing yourself in the process.

And that was exactly what had happened when the Great War started. My life was forever changed when they called for a draft.

I was drafted almost immediately; I was young, well-abled, and strong. Yes, I was a little small, especially for my age, but I was smart and I could master almost any skill they could throw at me in a couple of hours, a day at most. I was issued a uniform, a rifle, and a canteen. I was shipped off in a fleet moments later, unable to say goodbye to anyone, not even to Jack, who was expecting me home from the market any minute now.

From there, I went to a training camp. They taught me everything I needed to know, day in and day out with drills, obstacles, and insane things they kept making us do. At the end of everything, I could load a gun and shoot a target accurately from about a mile away. I was the best trainee there was, throwing myself into anything and everything with a vengeance. I just imagined Jack, and Emelia, and Father, waiting at home for me, and I thought that if I was going to be thrown into this war, I better not be completely defenseless. If I was going into this, I better be coming out of it.

They assured me that they would inform my father that I have been deployed after they took me, and I prayed that they had some common sense and that they would hide Jack and Emma for a few days, maybe months, depending how long the draft lasted. They also assured me that we would be home soon enough, and I believed them. I had to believe them. It was my only hope.


	4. Letters- part one

32610 Berk Drive

Cornwall, Britain

June, 1916

Dear Henry,

I miss you. I feel like I cannot function, I cannot be, without you here besides me. Our bed feels empty, and the chores feel as if it is simply too much to bare. Emelia misses you terribly, and says that she will have to bake you a fresh loaf of bread when you get back. Your father… isn't taking any of this well. I believe that the only thing that is keeping him sane is Emelia and I, and I'm not even sure that is enough sometimes. I think he is in some sort of denial; he reads the paper, talking about how terrible it is other there, and he denies it all. He misses you terribly. I know that without him saying a word.

How are you doing over there? The battles are brutal, or so I have heard. I know they guaranteed you would be home by Christmas, and it has been a long time since then. I await the day you walk back up on the doorstep to pull me into an embrace and never let me go.

I miss you, and the way you laugh, the way your beautiful lips curl up into a smile when you look at me, your eyes and all the wonders that they possess, and your freckles… God, I love you, and I am really starting to hate everything about this place from keeping you away from me. If Emelia was not here, I would volunteer and demand that I was deployed where you were. I would protect you with my life, then.

I love you, Henry. And I hope to see you soon.

From,

Jackson


	5. Letters- part two

P.O Box 112112

Red Cross of Vimy, France

September- November, 1916

Jack,

God, I've missed you terribly. I haven't seen you for so long, a year in fact, and it has been killing me. How's father? I know he's too proud to admit that our conditions are worse over here, but I still miss him. What about Emelia? You love her dearly, and I am pretty sure that you haven't left her side since the war was declared. Do you know the others are mocking me for writing this to you? I can't help it. As soon as I got your letter, I just had to let you know that I was okay.

I wish that I could say that I want to fight, but the truth is that I really do not. Some say that this is a huge honor, and some of my comrades are volunteers from our lovely nation, Britain. I just smile at them sadly and ask them if this was what they wanted; all the dead bodies and the rats and the bombs. They brush me off and shake their heads, saying that I should go back home if I didn't want to be here. I would gladly go back to you, you have to know that.

I really do not understand why we have to fight in the first place. Yes, I know the situation with Germany passing through Belgium and all, but do we have to fight them because of it? Do we have to kill these innocent people? I don't know.

Here at the Western Front, it is brutal, but I know that there are worse places. Jack, did you hear about the Battle of Somme? It barely just happened! I was fighting in it, but then again, who wasn't? It seemed pointless, to me at least. We wanted to kill as many Germans as possible, and we end up killing ourselves more than them! Sometimes, we even run out into no-man's-land. We try and get over to the Germans, try to take them over, but it's mighty dangerous. I don't go. Commander told me to stay back and shoot anyone who turned around. I didn't shoot anyone, you know that I wouldn't. I let them run, and I hope they got far enough away. After all this fighting, this war is still at a stalemate, can you believe that?

Oh Jack! You are so lucky! You will simply not understand! Parliament has no documentation on you or Emelia because of your mother, and that is why you could not be drafted! Yes, your life has been cruel because of it, but I'm glad you found father and me before this war started. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if you were here with me! It is dirty and smelly, and oh Jack! The bodies! They are simply everywhere and the rats eat them! We never get any sleep on the front lines, and yet they expect us to fight?

Jack, remember Terrance? He lived down the road… oh, Jack! Terrance died! He was here with me! We were partners! He got shot, right in the heart! It was absolutely awful, Jack! You should have seen his face, I have nightmares! I held him for a while, just crying. I couldn't let him go. He was the only thing I had left of home, left of you… they had to drag me away from him.

Jack, when I get back, I think I might be an inventor. There are lots of new technologies being used out here, you know? But they aren't that trustworthy. You must have heard about the mustard gas those Germans have been using against us. We have gas masks, but they do not work as well. I have made improvements on mine, but there simply isn't enough supplies to go around and improve everyone's masks. And then, there is the flamethrowers. Ingenious, really, but the design needs work. I have seen too many people burst into flame because of a torn fuel tube. I am drawing out designs in my free time, outside this letter. It gives me something to do in the reserves.

The food here is awful and I'm glad you're home. Everything is rotten, from the cheese to the bread, even the water! Some of the French told us to eat the rats. It wasn't any better, but we do what we must to survive. I hope father is treating both of you well. I hope to be back soon.

Some of the people here have gone crazy. They cry all the time, clutching their ears and wailing. Some say it is shell-shock. Most people fake it, just to go back home. I pull it together, because it wouldn't help me much if I broke down crying in front of a commander.

The lice here are bad. They come from the rats, and they're everywhere. They cut our hair really short, trying to get the lice to leave. They burn them off our clothes. As if that would help, they'll always come back. Some are getting trench foot, too. I'm glad I haven't gotten it yet, but I can't say anything. I've only been two months in these trenches, and who knows how much longer?

There's been talk of an armistice, Jack. I heard it. This war might finally be over!

* * *

Hi, this is Jeremy, Henry's partner.

He… he got shot, in the war. I ran over to him, but I was too late. I'm sorry.

He handed me this letter, and told me to write you. He… wanted me to tell you that he was okay, and that it would be alright. And… he told me to tell you that he loved you. He wanted you to know that so much.

Henry was a good friend, and you meant a lot to him. He's in a better place now.

I'm sorry for your loss.

-Jeremy Blake

* * *

***Terrance is Toothless and Jeremy Blake is Snotlout**


	6. Chapter 6- End

Jack didn't think of anything special when he woke up one morning. His heart ached dully and his eyes welled with tears at the thought of the person he shared the room with. Today was the two year anniversary that he hadn't seen Henry, two years since he was drafted, two years since he'd seen or heard of his precious Henry. His finger yearned for him, and his image was perfectly preserved in his mind.

Emelia was already up, starting on the rosemary bread she was making. Jack deftly helped her, his eyes glazed over, his body working by muscle-memory. Emelia looked at her brother worriedly, she knew what day it was and felt her brother's pain. She shoved the dough into the brick oven, and hugged her brother tightly. Jack hugged her back, in the same way he did everything now: blankly.

Henry's father walked into the kitchen, his eyes sad as he spotted the two children he took in as his own. He gathered them up in his arms automatically without uttering a word.

The hug broke, and Jack sniffed loudly. He wasn't crying because he promised himself that he would stay strong for Emelia, who looked up to him, and Henry's father, who counted on him to take care of them now. But mostly, he was being strong for Henry, awaiting his return as if he was a faithful spouse.

"I believe the post is here," Emelia said, pointing towards the front of the house. Jack nodded numbly, and went to go retrieve anything that could have came in.

The letters were few, but the last one in the pile were all that mattered. In thick, scrawling letters, the envelope was addressed to: "_Jackson, Emelia and Stephen Haddock_." At the seal, it had a stamp, proclaiming it was from Britain's army. The first thought that crossed Jack's mind was "Henry."

Jack held this letter in his hands tightly as he stood outside the house. He had been so excited to receive a letter from Henry that he didn't even wait to get inside to open and read it. He read the letter excitedly, soaking up every word that Henry wrote down… until it wasn't the same scrawling, beautiful handwriting on the page anymore. At the end, it was dirtier, some blood smudged here and there, and some sort of water blotting out some of the words. The statement was clear though.

_I'm sorry for your loss_…

Jack fell to his knees, holding the letter away from him as he wailed onto the floor, tears streaking down his face quickly. There was a pain in his heart, gnawing at his insides and eating him from inside out.

Emelia came running outside, hearing her brother's crying. He never cried, she knew this, not even when they were little. Believe it or not, she didn't have a memory of her brother crying. The sight of him collapsed onto the floor, sobbing violently and clutching a couple pieces of paper in his hand made her panic.

"Jackson!" She yelled, kneeling down and placing a hand on her brother's shoulder. He moved her hand off him, and, as if on second thought, gathered Emelia up into his arms. He stroked her hair as he cried, hugging her close to him almost to the point where she could not breathe properly.

"What's… what's wrong, Jack?" She asked, a bit scared to hear the answer, herself, but she needed to know.

"H-Henry…" He managed to sputter out before sobbing loudly into her ear unintentionally. His tears seemed never-ending.

"Jack!" Henry's father said, running outside and spotting the two. "What's the matter?" Shakily, Jack handed him the papers, a little reluctant to let them go, but he had the right to know what had happened to his son. He read the papers diligently, and at the end, he slapped a hand to his mouth to stifle a sob.

"What?" Emelia asked, looking at the two crying men. "What is the matter?"

"Henry… Henry is dead."

* * *

Their sobs continued for the rest of the day. Jack was crushed, his head swimming with images of his late Henry, the sound of his beloved's voice resounding in his head. He numbly stumbled into their room, his room now. He collapsed onto the two mattresses that remained pushed up against each other.

Jack scooted closer to Henry's side of the makeshift bed. His earthy and unique smell still imprinted on his pillow was bed's sheets no matter how many times Jack had washed them over the past two years, He thought of this as annoying and infuriating beforehand, now he counted it as a blessing. Burying his face into his pillow, Jack breathe in the scent.

Someone touched his shoulder, but he didn't react to it. Jack clutched the pillow tighter while someone slipped next to him, holding onto him tightly. Whether it be the smell of Henry getting to him or the familiarity of it all, Jack had a small glimmer of hope that it was Henry that was holding onto him. With a quick turn, Jack faced the someone who was holding him, and his heart fell farther down. It was only Emelia.

"I miss him too…" She said quietly, her voice breaking. Jack saw the tear stains that ran across her cheeks, and he futilely tried to wipe them away. He placed the pillow gingerly back in its place and hugged his sister tightly.

They both got up and walked to the front of the house, only to find Henry's father sitting on a chair next to the kitchen table, his eyes glazed over. There were fat tears rolling down his face and dripping onto the tabletop. Jack slung his arm around the man's shoulders.

"He… He simply cannot be dead." Henry's father said weakly, his lip trembling with the effort it took to choke that one sentence out in between his body-wracking yet silent sobs. "My son is not dead."

But they all knew otherwise. They all knew, thanks to the media, that Henry's body lay in a trench somewhere. He was slowly rotting next to his fallen comrades, the good-sized rats scurrying towards him as a promise of new food. They hoped that, sitting nearby, Jeremy Blake was warding off all the rats as best he could, honoring his friend in these actions. They knew that even though this war would be over, there would be nothing left to be happy about when the troops were deployed.

They knew that Henry Haddock was dead, and maybe, one day, they would accept that fact.


	7. Chapter 7- ALTERNATE ENDING

**HELLO PEOPLE! Okay, so I understand the ending sucks really bad, so the beautiful, wonderful, amazing, super-stupendous Overland Haddock wrote this alternate ending! **

**Disclaimer: I didn't write most of this, it's Overland Haddock :D I just edited. plus, neither of us own HTTYD or ROTG.**

* * *

Jack didn't think of anything special when he woke up one morning. His heart ached dully and his eyes welled with tears at the thought of the person he shared the room with. Today was the two year anniversary that he hadn't seen Henry, two years since he was drafted, two years since he'd seen or heard of his precious Henry. His finger yearned for him, and his image was perfectly preserved in his mind.

Emelia was already up, starting on the rosemary bread she was making. Jack deftly helped her, his eyes glazed over, his body working by muscle-memory. Emelia looked at her brother worriedly, she knew what day it was and felt her brother's pain. She shoved the dough into the brick oven, and hugged her brother tightly. Jack hugged her back, in the same way he did everything now: blankly.

Henry's father walked into the kitchen, his eyes sad as he spotted the two children he took in as his own. He gathered them up in his arms automatically without uttering a word.

The hug broke, and Jack sniffed loudly. He wasn't crying because he promised himself that he would stay strong for Emelia, who looked up to him, and Henry's father, who counted on him to take care of them now. But mostly, he was being strong for Henry, awaiting his return as if he was a faithful spouse.

"I believe the post is here," Emelia said, pointing towards the front of the house. Jack nodded numbly.

Jack went to go retrieve any mail that was placed upon the front porch. He picked up the letters, two to be exact. One was addressed to Henry's father. Though, the other was, in it's usual beautiful hand writing, addressed to the three of them. 'To Jackson, Emelia, and Stephen Haddock,' it said. And the first name that popped into Jack's mind was, 'Henry.'

Jack came into the kitchen with an anxious look upon his face. "Jack," Emelia said acknowledging her brother. "What's wrong?" Jack handed the first letter to Henry's father, who immediately opened it. "What does it say?" Emelia questioned with anxiety.

"Dear Mr. Haddock," He answered, starting to read the letter. "We are pleased to inform you that your son is doing well. In a fierce and harsh battle against some Germans, he got shot in the leg. Henry was immediately taken to the medical tent. We then sent him to the hospital of some of our allies to have his left leg removed. He has gotten to the need of what we call 'prosthesis,' meaning he is to be given a metal replica to replace his leg. We are to inform you that everything is paid, and taken care of. From the surgery to the therapy, it's all taken care of. Henry has already gone through two months of therapy and is in need to two more. We assure and guarantee that he shall be deployed and shall arrive safely back to you by Christmas Eve. Sincerely, Gen. K. Pitchneir."

"Now what does yours say, Jack?" Emelia questioned, facing her brother whom sighed as he began reading.

"Dear Jack," He replied. "How is everything at home? Is Emelia still the adorable little sister you adore? Is Father still smiling every morning? Are you still a devoted, hard working young man? If so, I'm happy. I haven't been able to write because I've been extremely busy. From everything that I've gone through, I haven't found time. I hope you can forgive me for that. I've spent the last two months getting used to the metal piece of junk, that is supposed to play the role of my leg, for the rest of my living days. I've heard every word they've spoken, Jack. The doctors, nurses, even the soldiers that bring other unfortunate beings and come to check up on me. I can sum up everything in one, single, hope-filled sentence: 'I'm going home.'

Of course, after I learn how to walk again. Do you know my attitude towards all this? I'm overjoyed! This means I will be able to see you again! It means I will be able to wake up to the smell of your delicious rosemary bread. It means we'll all be together this year for Christmas! Oh Jack, I'm just too thrilled! I do hope that you all stay strong. I love you all and shall see you before you all know it. Sincerely, Henry H. Haddock."

"H?" Emelia questioned. "What does that stand for?"

"It's Henry's middle name," Henry's father replied.

"Which is?" Jack urged.

"Hamish," Stephen answered. "It's Hamish."

* * *

**2 Months Later ~ Christmas Eve ~**

* * *

Emelia sat impatiently by the window. Jack said that he was going out to get some carrots and cabbage for the soup they were having for dinner and he had been gone for an hour. Emelia gasped as she saw an army van pull up, Henry stepping out from the back of the vehicle.

"He's home Mr. Haddock!" She cheered. "Henry's home!" The two then went out to greet the returning hero.

"Henry!" Emelia cheered as she ran up and wrapped her arms around the male.

Henry chuckled. "It's great to see you too, Emelia." He then returned the hug. He looked up and saw a smile glued onto his dad's face, it was warm and welcoming. And he gladly accepted the hug that followed. When they broke away, Henry wiped his eyes from the tears that secretly fell as he was within the embrace.

"Merry Christmas son," Stephen said as he continued to smile.

"Thanks dad," Henry replied. The trio then went back inside.

Jack came back ten minutes later to see coats hung on the coat rack. 'They must've gone outside for a bit,' he thought as he continued to walk through the house into the kitchen. He saw that Emelia was cautiously cutting the second loaf of bread as Mr. Haddock cut the first loaf beside her. Chuckling, Jack turned around and went upstairs. He stopped cautiously as he saw that the door to Henry's room was open. He entered and gasped.

There, striping himself of his army attire, was the boy which made Jack whole. It was the boy whom Jack loved till the end of time. It was the boy that seemed to make everything come alive. What he did, what he said, everything, came alive. It was Henry.

Henry turned, yet he stopped. He dropped his army jacket and looked as calmly as possible at Jack without throwing his arms around the other male's neck.

"I'm certainly glad to see you again," Jack said as he stood there in complete amazement.

"I'm certainly glad to see you," Henry replied. Jack then ran to Henry into a long, well needed embrace. They were finally together again. And it was the best Christmas present, they had ever received that year.

* * *

**TA DA! **

**I hope you liked it! **

**~The End~**


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